


A Lesson Or Two In Dork

by audino



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, fluffyfic, this is gonna keep going with more stuff I HOPE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audino/pseuds/audino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy- well, young man, sighed in the empty morning air, monochrome-grey skies watching him chillily from above. They seemed to offer only morose judgement this morning, biting their lips and tucking their heads in a "tut-tut" sort of way, and he almost laughed out loud. He deserved it, too, every last bit of it. A whole hour late. Okay, it was only the first class. Of the first day. That wasn't too bad, was it? It could've been worse. Right? At least he didn't get hit by a car or something on his bike ride over to school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson Or Two In Dork

**Author's Note:**

> Special dedication to Genten, who inspires all the sloppy, wonderful homestuck fics I could ever write

_Tak Tak Tak Tak Tak Tak_

The unending rain breathed down his spine, one long caress of water against skin pounding and soothing flesh with its' touch, usually a welcomed comfort away from even the most driving stress- except when one experienced it, lacing soaked tee and jeans with gallon after gallon of sky-sent kisses. The boy- well, young man, sighed in the empty morning air, monochrome-grey skies watching him chillily from above. They seemed to offer only morose judgement this morning, biting their lips and tucking their heads in a "tut-tut" sort of way, and he almost laughed out loud. He deserved it, too, every last bit of it. A whole hour late. Okay, it was only the first class. _Of the first day_. That wasn't _too bad_ , was it? It could've been worse. Right? At least he didn't get hit by a car or something on his bike ride over to school.

He groaned inwardly. He hoped against hope he'd get hit by a wild, out-of-control car, now. He didn't want to face anyone after this embarrassment. Finally, the school loomed in sight. The campus was pathetically empty all around, devoid of any and all running, yelling teens. They'd probably all been ushered inside out of the rain, or beat it at the first ring of a school bell. John pressed his ring-binder full of lesson plans tight to his chest and breathed hard. He could still make it. _He could still make it._  

He approached the glass doors, still drenched head to foot, and gently rammed the door with his shoulder, trying to nudge it open with his only available assistance, his hands still laced up in binders and folders and notebooks. As he coaxed the thing open, however, (God was it always this heavy?) it suddenly fell back and John felt all the support fall away with such ferocity that he swung forward and kept going- going- going- gone!, colliding hard with tile floor and feeling every single last paper he'd pent up in his arms go cascading in every direction across the starkly polished ground. John let out a low, guttural moan of pain, and eased himself into a sitting position, frantically tossing a bunch of papers together into his traperkeeper. As he shoved more and more now-dog-eared papers into his collection, he slowly became aware of a sound from behind him, and twisted instantly, eyes wide with horror.

His ears instantly burned red with humiliation. A young guy leaned coolly against the door directly next to the one he'd been so desperately trying to push open. One of his hands was still outreached, clasping the door firmly shut, and  his grin was a thousand miles long as he laughed his ass off over the obvious prank he'd just pulled over him. John bit his lip with buckteeth, curling up inward defenses already. The prank master had just been pranked by some punk kid with shades way too dark to merit any use on a gloomy day like today, but it was okay. He had stature now! He had power! He! Could! Reprimand!

"Hey! Don't lean on the door like that when people are trying to get in! You'll inhibit their entrance, you know!" _Good,_ he thought, _stern voice, reasonable point, you sound sorta like you know what the heck you're talking about._ The guy just laughed harder, though, his muffled snickering becoming full out whooping. John felt his face redden another shade, and stood up rather rapidly, creasing his jacket with carelessness. The other's face fell, and then went right back as he grinned rather weakly at him. 

"God, they hired just about anydork that walked in last week, didn't they? You're the second one, it's okay. Ed'll tell you I did the same thing to him. Well probably not, the guy's so stuck up he'll never actually _admit_ it," as the guy babbled he leaned down and collected the sacrificed papers and rearranged them in his hands, smoothing each one out with a tenderness unknown to your average high school student, and continued on with his speech without missing a beat, "-but god bless that guy, when he hit the floor he worried a good ten god damn minutes about whether he'd ripped his stupid scarf before he noticed me. You're a lot quicker at least! So-" He paused, waiting for a dramatic effect. "What're you in for, copper?" he growled,  throwing up pretend guns with his hands and "chtk-chtk"ing as he smothered more dorky snickers.

John was wordless for a good minute. He just searched this guy up and down, and at long last let out a weak little, "Buh?" 

His acquaintance rolled his eyes. _Hard_. Then he gave a little chuckle, held out his hand, and smiled all innocently at him, eyebrows raised in a sort of unspoken "Hey, I'm sorry, alright?" kind of way.

"I meant what subject do you teach here, man? I'm Mr. Strider, and I teach Graphic Design and Introduction to Photography. I'm a little prouder of that second one though, heh... Oh but you can just call me Dave, y'know? Would be easier on everyone if we were on a first name basis. I mean. If that's cool." He ducked his head nervously and John raised his eyebrows very slowly as Dave talked, and closed his limp jaw with new understanding flashing across his face. After a slow moment he felt a little bubble pop somewhere in him, and gave a little snicker of endearment. _God this guy was... such a dork_! He threw out his hand and grabbed Mr. Stride- _Dave_ 's with strength, grinning at him like the doofus he was.

"OK, Yeah, I'm John. I got hired to teach Ecto- I mean, Conceptual Biology. That's on the second floor, right? Yeah. I was just going there wh-when-" his voice fell and broke as he looked back over the catastrophe laying all around the floor, and everything came back all at once. Suddenly he was back with his nose to the floor, yelping, "OH MY GOD I AM SO LATE I'M GOING TO BE SO FIRED I'M SO SORRY DAVE I JUST—" But Dave started laughing again. John whipped around and barked, "WHAT?" and the other teacher's grin faltered, fell, then returned as a shy smile. 

"I dunno, man, I just thought you wanted to know that like, the kids come tomorrow. 'S cool you're so amped to get here on time, though, to be honest I'm pretty happy to see you, too. You're pretty far from boring, anyway." 

John stared at him a long, long, unbroken moment. He opened his mouth again, but couldn't think of anything to say. Dave just watched him happily, and started laughing again, grabbing John's soaked-over shoulder.

"Hey, you uh... wanna come dry off in the art room? They got this huge fan down there, it's pretty sweet, c'mon ya dork!"


End file.
